By Judy Bellack, Chief Consultant, Judith Lawrence Associates
For years, the rental housing industry’s journey toward pet inclusivity has moved forward in fits and starts.
We’ve added dog parks, pet spas, and pet washing stations. We’ve marketed communities as “pet-friendly.” We’ve gotten better at screening pets and managing pet-related risk. And some housing providers have begun reconsidering the breed and weight restrictions that once seemed almost automatic.
But we’ve also become very comfortable with something else:
Pet revenue.
Pet deposits. Nonrefundable pet fees. Monthly pet rent. Sometimes all three.
At the same time, many of the restrictions we’ve historically placed on pets, particularly breed and weight restrictions, remain remarkably persistent.
Now consumers, legislators and increasingly the data itself are challenging both sides of that equation.
The question for rental housing isn’t whether change is coming.
It’s whether we’re willing to lead it — or whether we’ll wait for policymakers to do it for us.
First, Let’s Talk About the Money
Pets can create costs. That’s not really debatable.
They can damage flooring, doors, or landscaping. Communities may incur costs maintaining dog parks, waste stations, and other pet amenities. Housing providers absolutely need mechanisms to hold residents accountable for damage caused by their animals.
But that’s different from assuming that every pet creates a predictable monthly expense simply by existing in an apartment.
And the industry’s own data gives us reason to examine that assumption.
PetScreening’s 2026 State of Pets in Rental Housing research found that housing providers reported pet-related damage in 31.47% of units, with an average repair cost of $567 per affected unit — an amount more than covered by the average security deposit.
Yet among surveyed properties outside the PetScreening customer base, 69% charge pet rent.
That should prompt a legitimate business question:
What risk or expense is each pet charge actually designed to cover?
If a resident pays a standard security deposit, perhaps an additional pet deposit, a nonrefundable pet fee, and recurring monthly pet rent — but never causes pet-related damage — at what point does cost recovery become something else?
There is nothing inherently wrong with generating revenue. We’re businesses.
But we should be willing to call revenue revenue.
And we shouldn’t be surprised when a renter paying hundreds of dollars upfront plus another $30, $50, or $75 every month (per pet!) begins to view those charges differently than we do.
Speaking of consumer sentiment…just take a look at any online forum like Reddit to see comments like these relative to pet fees:
“If the issue is covering damages, that’s literally what deposits and charging tenants for actual damages are for. Monthly pet rent is charging people forever for damage that may never happen.”
“Pet fees keep going up and up because we all pay them. I think it is criminal.”
“If you’re going to charge pet fees, you should also charge toddler fees.”
And perhaps most telling of all:
“What exactly is the recurring monthly charge paying for?”
These comments reveal not only the discontent among renters relative to fees…they also reveal the disconnect about why they are being charged.
“Junk Fee” Is in the Eye of the Beholder
That disconnect is now becoming a legislative issue.
In August 2026, Seattle unanimously passed legislation eliminating a variety of rental charges the city characterizes as “junk fees.” Beginning July 1, 2027, pet fees and pet rent will be prohibited, although housing providers may still collect a refundable pet-damage deposit of up to 25% of monthly rent.
We can debate whether “junk fee” is a fair description.
But we should pay considerably more attention to why policymakers and consumers increasingly find that description persuasive.
When consumers see a recurring charge that doesn’t appear connected to a corresponding recurring cost, they’re going to question it.
And pet-owning renters are already frustrated.
Recent research from Pet-Inclusive Housing Initiative, surveying more than 1,100 California renters, found that 82% encountered at least one pet-related restriction or fee during their housing search. Nearly three-quarters — 74% — said pet-friendly housing was difficult to find.
More than half paid an application fee before fully understanding the property’s pet policy.
And an extraordinary 96% support requiring rental listings to disclose pet policies before renters apply.
That isn’t an unreasonable consumer expectation.
It’s simply renters asking for clarity, predictability, and policies they perceive as fair.
Breed Restrictions Are Facing Their Own Reckoning
Fees aren’t the only traditional pet practice being challenged.
Consider breed-specific legislation (BSL).
For decades, pit bull-type dogs in particular were subject to local bans and restrictions built around the premise that breed could serve as a proxy for risk.
Today, that thinking is rapidly losing ground.
A recent Faunalytics summary of peer-reviewed research found that more than 300 breed-specific laws were repealed between 2012 and 2024, affecting communities representing more than nine million people.
Since 2019, just five cities — with a combined population of fewer than 14,000 — enacted new or more restrictive breed regulations.
Even more revealing is what has happened when voters themselves have been asked.
Early attempts to repeal breed-specific laws received only about 36% support. Four repeal referendums held between 2018 and 2024 averaged more than 60% support.
Public perceptions of the dogs themselves have shifted, too. Between 2014 and 2018, the percentage of Americans who considered pit bull-type dogs safe in communities increased from 39% to 51%.
And younger adults are considerably more accepting of these dogs than older generations.
For rental housing, that’s an important demographic signal.
Today’s younger adults aren’t simply our future residents.
They’re already our residents.
Public Policy Is Following Public Sentiment
This shift isn’t confined to municipal BSL.
Florida expanded its state preemption law in 2023, eliminating Miami-Dade County’s decades-old breed ban and preventing local governments and public housing authorities from restricting dogs based on breed, size, or weight.
States have also begun limiting insurers’ ability to make certain coverage decisions based solely on dog breed.
Colorado, meanwhile, has addressed the financial side of pet ownership in rentals, limiting refundable pet deposits to $300 and capping additional pet rent at $35 per month or 1.5% of monthly rent, whichever is greater.
Seattle has gone considerably further.
And transparency legislation is emerging as another front.
Different jurisdictions are approaching different pieces of the issue, but collectively they’re sending rental housing a message.
Pet fees. Pet rent. Breed restrictions. Weight restrictions. Insurance practices. Policy transparency.
These aren’t unrelated debates.
They’re different manifestations of the same shift:
Away from blanket assumptions and automatic charges — and toward policies that are transparent, individualized, and tied to demonstrable risk or cost.
And the researchers examining the decline of BSL explicitly identify private housing and insurance restrictions as the next frontier.
We should pay attention.
Because the next question for policymakers is fairly obvious:
If governments and insurers increasingly shouldn’t make decisions about an animal solely because of its breed, how long before legislators ask why housing providers still can?
“We’ll Just Raise the Rent” Isn’t Much of an Answer
I’ve heard some interesting reactions from within the industry to Seattle’s pet-rent ban.
One is essentially: Fine. We’ll just roll the lost pet revenue into base rent.
Perhaps some operators will try.
But that’s not how market pricing works.
Rents aren’t established by adding up every revenue stream an operator would like to preserve and passing the total along to residents.
Rents are constrained by what the market will bear.
If comparable communities are renting similar apartments for $2,000, eliminating $50 in monthly pet rent doesn’t magically make your apartment competitive at $2,050.
Ancillary revenue doesn’t automatically become rent simply because legislation eliminates the ancillary charge.
“Then We Just Won’t Allow Pets” Makes Even Less Sense
Another response I’ve heard is: If operators can’t charge for pets, they’ll simply stop allowing them.
Really?
PetScreening reports that 81% of operators are seeing pet ownership increase across their portfolios. Its research also found that operators associate pet-friendly communities with increases in applications, resident satisfaction, and lease renewals.
Pet-owning households aren’t some tiny niche operators can simply choose to ignore.
And here’s the strategic question:
Why would a housing provider voluntarily shrink its own addressable market?
In a competitive leasing environment, telling an enormous population of prospective renters that their households aren’t welcome isn’t much of a revenue strategy.
Neither is unnecessarily excluding renters because their 55-pound dog exceeds an arbitrary 50-pound weight limit or because an animal’s presumed breed appears on a list created years ago.
The market opportunity moves in exactly the opposite direction.
Inclusivity Doesn’t Mean Abandoning Accountability
This is where the conversation too often becomes unnecessarily binary.
Being more pet-inclusive does not mean housing providers have to accept every animal under every circumstance.
It means managing actual risk instead of relying on blunt proxies for it.
We can screen individual pets.
We can establish reasonable behavioral expectations.
We can require vaccinations and licensing.
We can enforce leash and waste policies.
We can address nuisance behavior.
We can hold residents responsible for actual damage.
We can establish reasonable limits appropriate to the physical characteristics of particular homes.
And we can communicate all of those expectations clearly before the renter ever applies.
In fact, PetScreening’s own research suggests that better pet management works. Properties using its platform reported a lower incidence of pet-related damage than noncustomers.
That’s a far more sophisticated risk-management strategy than simply asking:
What breed is it? How much does it weigh? And how much can we charge for it?
There’s a Business Opportunity Hiding in Plain Sight
Rental housing tends to discuss pet inclusivity as though it’s primarily a concession to pet owners.
I think that’s backwards.
Pet inclusivity can be a competitive strategy.
If 74% of pet-owning renters in one of the nation’s largest rental markets say pet-friendly housing is difficult to find, the operator who removes unnecessary restrictions immediately expands the prospect pool for every available apartment.
If renters are frustrated by opaque policies, the operator who publishes every requirement and cost upfront creates trust before the prospect ever tours.
If consumers increasingly resent layers of pet charges, the operator who adopts a simple, reasonable, and defensible approach to pet-related costs has a differentiation story.
If communities continue banning breeds while public attitudes increasingly reject those restrictions, the operator who evaluates the individual animal instead of its label opens the door to renters that competitors are turning away.
And if a renter faces the prospect of choosing between an apartment and an animal they consider a member of their family, the community that welcomes both creates an emotional connection that another standard amenity can’t match.
That’s not charity.
That’s customer acquisition.
And when a resident discovers that moving means navigating the same gauntlet of deposits, fees, breed restrictions, and weight limits all over again?
Pet inclusivity can become a retention strategy, too.
So What Should Operators Do Now?
Before another city council or state legislature answers these questions for us, operators have an opportunity to take a hard look at their own policies.
Start with the data.
Audit pet-related revenue against actual pet-related expenses and damage. If the two aren’t remotely connected, ask why.
Review every pet charge. What specifically is it intended to recover?
Examine breed and weight restrictions. Are they actually required by your insurer today, or are they legacy policies that nobody has revisited in years?
Look at individual-animal screening and behavior-based risk management as alternatives to blanket exclusions.
Evaluate whether pet limits make sense for the actual housing product rather than applying one arbitrary number portfolio-wide.
Make every restriction, deposit, fee, and requirement transparent in your listings — before a renter spends time or money applying.
And measure the other side of the ledger.
How many prospects are we losing because of pet restrictions?
How many residents would stay longer because their household — including their pets — is welcome?
How much leasing friction could we eliminate?
How many “unauthorized” pets might become authorized if residents didn’t perceive the cost or process as punitive?
Those belong in the financial analysis, too.
Lead Before You Are Legislated
There is an important distinction between arguing that government should regulate pet policies and recognizing that government increasingly will if consumers believe the marketplace isn’t addressing the concerns of their constituents.
That’s why I don’t see this primarily as a legislative issue.
I see it as an opportunity for our industry.
Rental housing has made enormous progress on pets. The next stage of that journey requires something harder than building another dog park or adding “pet friendly” to a website.
It requires questioning practices that have become comfortable.
Some of them are operationally comfortable.
Some are culturally comfortable.
And, yes, some are financially very comfortable.
But comfortable doesn’t necessarily mean sustainable.
Consumer expectations are changing.
Public attitudes about breed are changing.
Insurance practices are changing.
Legislation is changing.
And the renter population itself is changing.
Housing providers still have an opportunity to get ahead of all of it — to build pet policies based on actual risk, actual cost, transparency, and individual accountability rather than assumptions inherited from another era.
The question isn’t whether rental housing’s pet policies are going to evolve.
It’s whether we’ll evolve them ourselves — or wait until someone else writes the policy for us.